Shadow and Ice

Another day had passed.

Humanity, now thrown into a world ruled by chaos and uncertainty, struggled to survive and adapt to the cruel new rules reality imposed upon them. Meanwhile, the monsters, as if savoring an eternal feast, mercilessly devoured any creature not strong enough to resist. It was natural selection in its most brutal form.

In the midst of this new hostile world, a spark of hope began to emerge.

Through the Global Chat, survivors across the planet began to communicate, exchange information, and form alliances. Fear gave way to organization, and organization started turning into strength. The first signs of guilds were appearing — groups determined not only to resist but to thrive in this new game of life and death.

...

While many were still taking their first steps in understanding the system, struggling even against common zombies, Dean and his team were on another level. They had already grown used to the risk, the blood, and the death. And now, they were hunting nonstop — farming EXP like true power-hungry fanatics.

A young man with brown hair and eyes, holding a bow in his hand, descended from a pile of corpses. Nearby, a skeleton was pulling its sword out of a corpse's skull.

Three people slowly approached, all covered in filth and exhausted, but with no apparent wounds. Their faces held huge smiles.

"We did it! We finally reached level 5, haha! Global chat and trading are a huge help — now we can get info and items we actually want," Leo said excitedly.

Mila nodded as she held out her hand, showing three cards — one green, the others gray.

"We got three items this time, haha! Lucky us — especially this uncommon one."

Dean was surprised but genuinely happy. They seemed to be evolving well, which only increased their chances of survival and their opportunity to seek even more power.

Clara was the only one who had been silent the entire time, which Dean found odd — she was usually the most energetic one in the group.

"Something happen to make you so well-behaved today?" he asked sarcastically.

She puffed out her cheeks in a frustrated expression, but to Dean, it was just an adorable face that made him want to tease her even more.

"I've always been well-behaved," she retorted. "But actually... something did happen. I had a question. I saw some other survivors while we were fighting. Do you think it would be a good idea to try joining them? It could increase our chances of survival."

Leo and Mila fell silent, but their expressions clearly showed nervousness and caution.

Dean hesitated for a moment, then spoke firmly.

"Let's move out. We don't know their intentions. Better not risk it." As he spoke, he looked around, searching for any strange movement nearby.

The others did the same, checking for any irregularities.

...

Elsewhere...

"Boss, we spotted three more survivors," said a young man, panting as he wiped the soot from his forehead. "They seemed well-armed."

"Yeah…" added another, eyes sharp. "And honestly, they didn't look that strong. Just clearing out zombies, nothing special."

The response came in a low, deep voice, carrying a chilling calm.

"Well-armed…" muttered the man known only as The General. He stepped closer to a broken window in an abandoned building, staring out over the ruined city. "If they're armed and still alive… then they're not weak. They're smart. And intelligence, in this new world, is even more dangerous than brute strength."

The General was a man with a harsh appearance — trimmed beard, gray eyes, and a torn military uniform. His subordinates followed him as an absolute leader, without question. He had saved dozens… but also eliminated dozens he deemed "useless" to the new order.

"What do we do, sir?" asked one of the young men.

The General stayed silent for a moment. A faint smile curved his lips.

"We'll keep watching them. See how far they go. If they're useful… maybe we'll recruit them. If they're a threat…" He locked eyes with the young man. "…we eliminate them before they grow too strong."

...

Back to Dean's group.

Dean was still scanning the area, feeling a chill run down his spine. It wasn't fear — it was instinct. Something in his subconscious told him they were being watched.

"Let's move," he said firmly. "To the next point."

"What's the plan?" asked Mila, adjusting her backpack.

"A weapons store. A few blocks from here. If there's anything left, we'll come out way better equipped."

"What if it's a trap?" Clara asked, her concern clear.

"Then we deal with it," Dean replied, his expression serious and determined. "We're not the same people who started this game anymore."

Dean had already stored his skeletal knight in the Collector Box, in case someone really had bad intentions — he'd be ready.

The search for survival was now blending with ambition. And in Dean's eyes, there was no longer just the desire to endure.

There was the desire to dominate.

...

Meanwhile, from the shadows of ruined buildings, the General's eyes never left Dean's group.

"Let's see what you're made of…"

Dean and his team began making their way toward the weapons shop, staying alert to check if they were being followed.

Luckily, there were only a few zombies along the way — nothing that slowed the group down, who handled them easily and pressed on.

The General remained fixed on them. From his high vantage point, using military-grade binoculars, he tracked every step, every gesture, every decision. His subordinates remained completely silent — no one dared interrupt the focus of the man they saw as more than a leader. He was the law.

Dean, Clara, Mila, and Leo finally reached the weapons store. It was once well-known in the city, now surrounded by abandoned cars and makeshift barricades. The doors were slightly ajar, but there was a strange silence, as if the building was waiting… for something.

"We go in together. Eyes sharp. Don't touch anything without telling me," Dean commanded.

The group nodded. Despite being tired, their eyes shone with the hope of finding something valuable inside.

The store's interior was dark and dusty, but surprisingly intact. Dean went straight to the weapons counter while Clara and the others checked shelves and lockers. After a few minutes, something odd caught his eye — a golden glow that didn't belong there.

It was a sealed card, resting on a metallic pedestal covered in webs.

As he touched it, a message appeared before his eyes:

[Item Acquired: Dungeon Access Card — Solo (Unique Key)]

Allows entry into a dungeon of adaptive difficulty at any time. Only the bearer may enter the portal.

Dean frowned.

"This… is different," he murmured.

Before he could say anything to the others, the card glowed again. A crack in space opened before him — a dark rift emanating raw mana energy. A portal, pulling him toward it.

Clara ran to him, trying to hold him back.

"Why aren't you resisting?!"

"No need to worry. I'll be back soon — I am the strongest," Dean wasn't even trying to resist, knowing it would be pointless.

Meanwhile, Leo and Mila searched desperately for a way to stop Dean from being pulled in.

He looked at the group with confidence… but also a hint of regret.

"Don't worry, it'll be fine."

"Dean… be careful," Clara whispered. For the first time, she held his arm firmly. She wasn't trying to stop him anymore — she trusted him. "Please… come back."

Dean just nodded, and without another word, stepped into the portal.

As soon as he vanished, the rift sealed shut. Silence fell… until it was broken by the clinking of metal outside.

"Movement to the north!" Leo shouted, drawing his short sword.

Across the street, armed figures appeared, in formation. Leading them… the General finally revealed himself.

Clara, Mila, and Leo slowly stepped back, forming a defensive stance.

"What do you want?" Clara asked, hands raised in a basic conjuring pose, despite having no active magic.

The General walked forward slowly, stopping just a few meters away. His presence was suffocating. His gaze alone seemed to judge lives.

"Where's the archer?" he asked directly.

"None of your business," Mila replied firmly.

The General smiled faintly.

"A shame. People with your kind of attitude could be useful… but if you won't join the new order, then…"

He raised his arm. Instantly, his soldiers charged. The battle erupted with brutal force.

Leo spun his short sword skillfully, taking down two enemies at once. Mila used some throwing knives and a dagger she'd earned from killing zombies. Clara, even without magic, fought smart and fast, dodging and striking with her axe.

The fight seemed balanced… until the General stepped in.

With a single leap, he crossed ten meters and smashed the ground with his two-handed axe. The shockwave launched Mila away, and Clara dropped to her knees.

[Opponent: "The General"]

Level: 5

Class: Berserker

Active Passive: Growing Fury (The more injured, the stronger he becomes)

He charged violently, slamming Leo in the chest with the axe's handle. If not for his reinforced jacket, his ribs would've shattered.

"Emotional weakness… is the ruin of any group," the General muttered, attacking again.

But despite the difference in strength, the three didn't give in.

Mila stood with difficulty, blood running from her forehead. Clara stepped between her and the General, gripping her axe tightly, though trembling. Leo staggered, spitting blood, but his eyes burned with determination.

They didn't know how long they could hold out.

But they knew one thing:

They wouldn't go down easily.

...

Inside the Dungeon

Dean walked through a frozen cave, where ice spikes jutted from every surface. The temperature was brutally cold, making life here near impossible.

[Dungeon Zone: Frozen Underground]

Monsters Detected: Mid-High Rank

Reward: ?

Exit Condition: Eliminate the Entrance Guardian

In front of him, blue eyes began to glow in the darkness.

Dean just smiled, pulling his bow.

"Let's see… how far I can go alone."